Each to His Own
by Sephielya J. Maxwell
Summary: Late one evening, Lithuania catches Latvia about to make a mistake. The two of them end up in a discussion about what "revenge" really means for them, and what the repercussions will be.


The day had run smoothly so far, and in these times that was saying a lot. A day without one of the many nations in Ivan's household getting themselves into trouble could be counted as an examplementary day! As evening came on the household seemed to trickle down into everyone's own little personal time. Katya would be with Natalya, whether it annoyed her younger sister or not. She'd complain about her day as she did something menial, like braiding Natalya's hair or reading aloud. Gilbert always liked to be alone in the evenings, and well, Toris didn't really want to know what he was doing. It was a matter of blissful ignorance you see. What you didn't know meant you couldn't be accused of co-conspiring or something.

As for Eduard, the middle Baltic liked to read or write. Ivan would retreat to his personal office to unwind more often than not, and when he didn't he simply made his rounds 'pestering' everyone else in the house. Toris thought there were much better ways to say that you were feeling lonely, but Ivan never seemed to catch this hint. And so it came to be that this evening was as quiet as the rest of the day had been. Everyone had parted ways after dinner, and Toris himself had gone to the large house's library. Most of the books were in Russian—about 97% of them, but by now he could read it quite well. And reading anything was better than nothing!

It was getting close to 8pm now, and Toris regretfully slid his bookmark into place and closed his book as he rose to stand. Sliding it back onto the shelf, he headed for the kitchen to make some tea for Ivan. It was always better to make it preemptively rather than to wait until the Russian was thirsty enough to become impatient with how long it took. His path to the kitchen happened to cross with the front foyer, and just as he turned the corner he nearly bumped into something at waist level. "Ah—!"

"_AHH_!" The shout startled Toris, who in turn covered his own mouth as not to repeat the sound. A smaller body rose up to stand in front of him, nearly falling over backwards. Toris reached out to catch their shoulders at once, and they were left clinging to one another and panting lightly.

"R-Raivis?" Toris frowned.

"I-I thought you were Ivan!" Raivis exclaimed, fingers curled into the front of Toris' shirt. Toris released his brother's shoulders, gently prying Raivis' hands from his shirt.

"What were you doing bent over in front of the…" Green eyes moved down to where Raivis had been, catching sight of the household members' winter boots setting on the mat. He glanced back to Raivis, still holding his hands, seeing that they were indeed empty. "Please tell me you didn't…" Toris groaned, kneeling down to the biggest pair of boots. Ivan's, of course. Raivis wrung his hands together, merely standing there and averting his eyes. Toris lifted the left boot and turned it over, shaking it a little. Nothing. Setting it down, he did the same to the right, holding his free hand under the opening. Out fell a shiny brass tack, which brought a frown to the oldest Baltic's expression. Setting the boot back down, he held it up. Raivis managed to look as innocent as possible, even seeming surprised. "Oh come on Raivis, I caught you red handed! You _do _know that _I _was blamed for this last week?"

"S…Sorry about that." Raivis' expression looked a little guilty at last. Toris sighed, looking a bit defeated. He'd suspected Raivis from the start, but of course he hadn't been about to point fingers when he wasn't sure. Taking a hold of Raivis' hand, Toris pulled him towards the kitchen.

"Come on, your shout might have attracted someone. If they ask, we'll just say I bumped into you." Raivis smiled at that, looking a bit relived. "Oh come on, you thought I would tell on you?" Toris smiled a little as they reached the kitchen. "Sit down; I'll make you some tea too." Toris directed, and Raivis sat at the table. Moving over to the cupboard, Toris opened it to retrieve the old iron kettle. Opening the lid as he walked over to the sink, he turned the water on to fill it. Reaching to the side, he stuck the tack into the cabinet. "Look, Raivis… I know you're frustrated with Ivan. We all are right now. But you have to…"

"You're just going to defend him, aren't you?" Raivis frowned, picking at his nails now. Toris felt himself tense, and she shook his head. Without looking back, he spoke.

"No, and stop picking at your nails. You're going to bleed again." Raivis had a bad habit of picking at his nails and the skin around them to the point of drawing blood when he was nervous. The Latvian shoved both hands into his lap, fingers clasped.

"You have to understand, he's stressed." Raivis did his best to mimic his older brother's voice. "Ivan's not a _bad _man, he just gets carried away. He's strict. He's under so much pressure, you don't know what it's like. You've never _been _an Empire…"

"Raivis! I never say that!" Toris turned off the water, setting the kettle down for a moment as he turned to face his brother. His expression was almost hurt, but Raivis only sighed.

"But you _think _it, Toris. And you're right. I've never been an Empire. I don't know what it's like to fight and claim other nations, to have them in my house… I've fought only for myself, but I always seem to end up in other's houses…" Toris bit his lower lip now, unable to really argue with that. He turned to lift the kettle again, moving over to set it onto the stove. Clicking it on, he walked over to sit in the chair near his brother. Reaching out, he took a hold of Raivis' right hand, holding it in both of his own on the tabletop.

"I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like… I was better than you. It was never my intention. I know it gets annoying when I seem to defend Ivan's actions… Eduard's told me too. In much less kind words than you chose." He smiled a bit at that, and Raivis smiled too. Eduard could be a bit blunt at times. "Listen though, my experience… I can't even compare it to Ivan's. My bosses were never like his, and you know I never treated those in my house like he does." Raivis nodded. He was in Toris' house back in the Duchy, after all. "So no, I'm not saying that everything he does is because of stress, and I'm not saying that it's all alright—that everything is excused. It's not." He gave Raivis' hand a squeeze.

"…You hate him, then?" Raivis asked quietly. Toris tensed, his expression pained. Finally he sighed, hanging his head.

"Yes, sometimes. Many times. More often than not I want nothing else but to shout at him at the top of my lungs, and to fight against even the smallest order to my very last breath. I want to remind him what it's like to feel small and weak, and how it _feels _to tremble at the thought of another punishment." Toris' voice was quieter now, and perhaps a little bitter. "Other times, I want to scold him like he's a naughty child who doesn't know when to stop _taking…_ A child who's put his hand into the cookie jar one too many times before dinner." Raivis had to chuckle at the thought of his older brother scolding Ivan, and Toris looked up with a slight smile of his own. Patting Raivis' hand, he sat back and released it. "But you know what keeps me from doing any of those things, Raivis?"

"Perhaps self-preservation?" Raivis ventured. Now Toris chuckled, smiling a little more.

"That, and peace." Now Raivis looked confused.

"Peace?" He repeated, and Toris nodded.

"Peace. Peace of mind, and of body. If I laid into Ivan with as _much _bitterness as I kept inside, I think it would hurt us both equally. You know how he gets when he's hurt. He lashes out, and then he feels even worse. I would hurt him, and he would hurt me back in the only way he knows how—with force. And even if he didn't hurt me physically, which he might not, I would still be hurt. Because I would have wounded Ivan in such a way that I couldn't make him better again." Toris sighed. "What I'm saying is, it would never make me feel better to hurt Ivan like that. Even if I could do what I said I wanted to, to remind Ivan what it was like and to make him feel fear… That would mean that I had only seceded in becoming that which I said I hated." Raivis' eyes widened a little in understanding.

"You don't think about revenge then?"

"Oh I _think _about it." Toris countered. "But I would never complete it. Remember when the Empire fell, and we all became free?" Raivis nodded at this. "We all had our chance then. Ivan had gotten so unstable just before the fall of the Tsardom that he had hurt us all in one way or another. We were all feeling bitter and angry towards him. But instead of kicking him when he was down, we only fought to have a _normal _life again. Independence is more important to me than revenge. Don't you agree?"

"I… Always thought of them as being the same thing. That becoming independent would be revenge." Toris thought about this for a moment, and he gave a small smile.

"_Mm…_I think you're right. Our revenge is to prove that we're not small and weak. We'll be free again, you know. It's only a matter of time. But in the meantime Raivis… _peace_?" Toris lifted one eyebrow, and Raivis gave a mischievous smile. The kettle began to whistle, and Toris stood up to get it.

"I'll try my best…" Raivis offered as he watched Toris grab down a cup and saucer, placing the tea bag into it and pouring the water in. Adding sugar, he carried it over to set down in front of his youngest brother. Long fingers ran through that soft, wavy blond hair as Toris leaned down to kiss Raivis' forehead.

"_Ačiū, broliuk_." Toris said as he moved back over to the cabinets.

"I said I'd _try…_" Raivis reminded, though he was smiling as he took the warm teacup into his hands. Toris was gathering crackers and jam to set on a serving tray, pouring the hot water into a pot and setting cups onto the tray.

"That's as much as I can ask! But don't expect me to take the rap for you if you do it again." Toris warned, and Raivis gave a small sigh. He needed a new method of working out his feelings it seemed. He nodded as Toris lifted the tray, heading for the door of the kitchen. Toris was stopped briefly by his brother's voice, just before he set foot out of the kitchen.

"Should Eduard and I wait up for you?" Maybe it was passive aggressive, just a little. But it was a legitimate question. Once Ivan was asleep, the three Baltics usually got together to talk. It was the only time they had without being watched. Toris' guilty expression couldn't be seen, his back towards his brother's at the moment.

"…No, probably not tonight."

"That's your choice? Or is that for peace too?"

"No," Toris shook his head, glancing down to the tray he carried. The jam, the crackers… Those weren't asked for, but he knew they'd make Ivan happy. Ivan loved Toris' cooking, and Toris had made these jams. "This is for me. Perhaps it's my own form of revenge. Whether you want to think about it or not, Ivan's sometimes just as miserable as the rest of us. And the more I make him smile now, the more I know it will hurt when we leave. But I can't help myself, either. I want what comfort he offers just as much."

"It's not revenge if you're hurting _yourself _too, Toris." Raivis set down his cup, turning to the side in his chair with a worried frown. He saw Toris' shoulders tense slightly. "Won't you end up just as sad?"

"I wonder…" Toris mused, clutching the sides of the tray. "Goodnight, Raivis."

"…Goodnight, Toris." Raivis watched his brother leave, and he started to pick at his nails again. It made him even more angry at Ivan to see the Russian twisting his brother like this. There wasn't any way that Toris could get his revenge without hurting _himself _too. On the other hand, Raivis admired his oldest brother. There was no greater revenge than the kind that required such a strong sacrifice. To be tender and honest enough to hold the well-guarded Russian's heart, and to be brave enough to lend his own to those large, often clumsy hands of Ivan's… And how about Ivan?It was emotional suicide to chase someone as wild and independent as his brother. Toris wasn't fooling anyone who knew him well enough; the days of the Dutchy had never left him in spirit, no matter how tamed he seemed sometimes.

Raivis sighed, turning back to his tea. When they _were _free again, he supposed he'd just have to be there for his foolish older brother. Maybe when Toris had no one else to go to, he'd pay a little more attention to him… Smiling at the thought, Raivis brought the cup to his lips to sip at the sweetened tea.


End file.
